Hot Dog had been watching her. Again. Annoying little prick...

"Something interesting caught your eye, nugget?" He hated being called a nugget, and he really wasn't. He was just as battle-tested as anyone else. But there was no better way to keep him in his place. He frowned.

"The same dream, again? Maybe you should talk to good old Doctor Hot Dog about all your troubles." He was trying to be light about something that wasn't. That was kind of annoying.

"Constanza, maybe you should have gone into psychoanalysis instead of being a Viper jockey." Kara swung out of her bunk to her feet and cracked her neck before sliding into her boots.

"If there was anyone in need of analysis, it's you." he countered. "Two months you haven't been sleeping right. You're starting to get twitchy. You should talk to someone..."

Talk to someone... that's all anyone wanted to do. When did talking to a frakkin' thing? She remembered that someone wanted to talk to her on New Caprica, not that long ago. He had shut her up in a room and did nothing but talk to her and talk at her. She had shut him up quite a few times, but it was never for good.

Starbuck grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste and walked out, a short way down the corridor was the head. It was empty, except for Helo.

Helo, Helo. Now there was a study in contradictions, but good to have at your back in a fight. Big as a house too. Why the hell was he shaving? It would take a miracle and a prayer to have his face be anything else but smooth as a baby's ass.

"Looking bent out of shape, Captain." he remarked. "Bad dreams?"

"You know it." Kara splashed her face. "Two months, the same dream. Every night. I think I'm losing my frakkin' mind..."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"I'm not really in the mood, and to be honest, I really don't understand it myself. But I'll deal with it." She stared at herself in the mirror. Circles under the eyes. No joy at all in them. Dead battery.

"Hera has bad dreams sometimes. More so lately. We took her to see a psychologist on one of the civilian ships, I can't remember which one.." he rubbed his nose. "It helped."Kara looked at him. "Might want to look into it." he said.

Kara spat and rinsed her mouth. "What's a shrink going to tell me I don't already know? 'Kara Thrace: Certifiable'. Thanks, but no thanks. I'll deal with it.."

"There's something else. There's an oracle, down in Dogsville. Lot of people say she's the real deal. Might be worth your time."

Kara grinned.

"Right."

She froze, staring at her reflection in the mirror. The little girl watching her looked like she had been on the losing side of twelve rounds with Caprica's greatest prizefighter. But it was the woman holding the girl's bandaged hand which concerned her more. She was tall, definitely taller than Kara, and dressed in a thin black robe. She was barefoot, but had silver and gold bangles adorning her ankles. They were also at her wrists. A metallic mask, carved in the face of a bird, stared back at her.

She felt small suddenly. But not alone, which was somehow comforting.

The woman stepped out of the head, leading the little girl by the hand. The girl smiled at her, causing blood to ooze from a split lip. Several spatters dripped onto the deck. Then she was gone.

Kara walked over and stooped down. On the deckplate were several spatters of what looked like blood.

Helo walked over and looked. "Probably lubricant or oil. These pipes are always leaking." Helo pointed up at the various pipes which snaked through the ceiling and upper bulkheads of the head.

"But I'm serious. See someone. Anyone. Can't have our star pilot going crackers, seeing Cylons in the rafters. Hey, that rhymes." Helo grinned, then walked out.

"Yeah." Kara said, with no real feeling. "Going crackers. Can't have that."